


The Sure Thing

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo ponders a change in his relationship status.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sure Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akuchan_47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akuchan_47/gifts).



Gojyo lived with few regrets. At least, he told himself if he repeated that sentiment often enough, he'd begin to believe it. But right now he was having trouble with it; the words were getting stuck somewhere between his brain and his tongue.

In his heart, he knew he should tell Hakkai exactly how he felt about him. He shouldn't have danced around the issue so coyly months ago, shouldn't have let Banri muddy the waters, or let him twist what had been a beautiful, pure feeling into something that had embarrassed Gojyo and made him feel ashamed.

But he couldn't lay all the blame at Banri's feet. Before Gojyo had managed to get up the nerve the first time, that pissy priest--Sanzo-- and his monkey sidekick had breezed through their lives, coming to hunt Cho Gonou down like a dog. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say a proper goodbye that time, not that Gojyo believed for a second he would have been capable of it.

And then it had been too late; thus closing another sorry episode in an even sorrier life. Gojyo wasn't prone to pity parties, but when that blond fuck had pronounced that Cho Gonou was dead, something inside Gojyo had died too, leaving him numb. At the time, he didn't think he would ever feel fully alive again.

What he wouldn't have given back then to put that fucker in his place--once and for all--and his little pet, too, for good measure. Not that it would have brought him any closer to Cho Gonou, or made up for the fact that above all it was his own indecision--his own inability to be honest with himself and Gonou--that made him feel wretched.

Most days after he'd returned to the cottage alone, it was hard enough to get out of bed, and Gojyo wasn't sure he'd be able to put the pieces of his life back together into working order. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He'd lost his taste for women and booze and gambling and life in general. And food, especially food. Gonou had ruined him for cooking, not that Gojyo had been anything more than adequate on good days. On bad days, which they all seemed when he returned to his cottage alone, he was lucky he didn't poison himself. Or maybe he'd been unlucky.

And then he'd bumped into Cho _Hakkai_ at the market, and Gojyo's world had been righted.

He'd never been good at _needing_ anyone. Sure, he and Banri had had an unspoken agreement--they'd always had each other's back when push came to shove--but Gojyo couldn't say he felt bad the guy was gone. After what Banri had done, after the way he'd hung Gojyo out to dry, he'd had it coming.

He'd never properly thanked Hakkai for saving his ass, either, though Gojyo figured Hakkai wouldn't have been comfortable with his gratitude, just as he never would have accepted Gonou's. When Gojyo had found him that rainy night (that seemed a lifetime ago), he'd only done what any decent person would have--though he was sure Hakkai would point out that very few decent people would be up to the task of pushing someone's guts back into their belly. Gojyo silently countered that fewer still would have stepped into that warehouse with only an umbrella for protection.

Damn. Not that Hakkai had needed any protection that night.

Gojyo supposed that he and Hakkai were alike in that way; bearing some responsibility to debts they'd left unpaid--his debt to the brother who saved his life and then abruptly walked out of it, leaving him to fend for himself. Hakkai, to the clan of youkai he'd murdered in cold blood, or maybe to the God he'd once worshiped to atone for his mortal sins, or maybe both. Certainly not to the sister/lover who'd killed herself while Gonou had looked on, helpless to save her.

Gojyo hated Kanan for that.

For a long time, Gojyo had thought that maybe that was it. Maybe he was mistaking the weird parallels of their lives for something like attraction. They were both guys--heterosexual guys--after all! Sure, he'd fooled around here and there with other men, but that had only happened during dry spells--to pass the time, or to scratch an itch. There weren't any _feelings_ involved.

With Hakkai, though, it was different. He obviously loved for keeps, loved with an enormity that both frightened Gojyo and picked at him the way his fingernail would pick at a scab. He'd always wanted to know what it felt like to be loved that way--to be rescued and _not_ abandoned.

Gojyo couldn't exactly remember when love entered the equation.

Love was a heavy word, one that he'd studiously avoided in all of his liaisons. But as he turned it over in his head, it became more and more apparent to Gojyo that that was exactly what it was. And man, did that suck! Hakkai was his best friend, and the last thing Gojyo wanted was to fuck up their friendship.

Once, he'd tried flirting with Hakkai. That had been a disaster. All it had gotten Gojyo was a stony face with a small smile pasted on, the same expression Hakkai would grace any of the various vermin that deigned to enter his kitchen with before he dispatched the pest. He wasn't a woman, after all, easy to sway with sweet talk!

Gojyo stared up at the ceiling above his bed and stretched his arms out before pillowing his head on them. The aroma of coffee seeped in from under the closed door, redolent of lazy mornings spent at the breakfast table in comfortable companionship with Hakkai. The pleasant memory was spoiled though, by Gojyo's thoughts that the bed, single though it was, felt way too big. Too empty. It had never quite seemed as comfortable than when he'd given it up to Gonou. When Hakkai had returned, he'd refused to impose on Gojyo any more than he deemed necessary, choosing instead to take up on the threadbare couch. No amount of Gojyo's protests had been able to impress upon Hakkai that there was no imposition; that Gojyo was happy to share anything and everything with him. The scent of _congee_ joined the coffee. Gojyo's stomach growled. He got up and drifted into the kitchen.

"Morning," he greeted.

"Good morning, Gojyo. I've left you some breakfast."

Hakkai was standing by the stove, a slip of paper in his hand. He held it out to Gojyo.

"We're low on a few items."

Food shopping had become a delicate negotiation between them. It had taken a long time for them to come to some kind of a truce over it; Gojyo knew Hakkai despised having to rely on him for the money, so he could be forgiven the stilted way he went about asking for it. He took the list from Hakkai's hand, carefully avoiding brushing his fingers over it.

"Why don't you come with me? We could do the shopping together …" he added tentatively, dropping his gaze. Gojyo surveyed the list, written in Hakkai's neat hand. These were things he would provide for them both--that Hakkai would prepare for them to eat. And then Gojyo would wash the dishes and Hakkai would dry them and put them away, to be ready for their next meal. Another boring evening on the face of it, but Gojyo loved the normalcy of it all. The mundane tasks that they did to enhance their life together had taken on such significance for him. His childhood had been bereft of them; when he and Jien had attended to their mother and the shack they'd called home, it had been to keep the panic at the unraveling of her mental health at bay, and he'd lived for so long on his own--taking care of himself because there was no one else who could be bothered--he couldn't imagine ever taking them for granted.

"I can't. Sanzo has asked me to tutor Goku today." Hakkai slipped his backpack onto one shoulder.

Gojyo was glad that Hakkai had recently begun to drop the honorifics from the priest's address. Sanzo's--technically not a lie, but definitely not a full disclosure--still chafed at him. The wound was still too raw to be healed, only this scar, unlike the parallel marks on his cheek or the ragged swath on Hakkai's stomach--would never be visible, it had been etched onto his heart.

"Why can't he train his own chimp?" he asked irritably. He knew the answer already--it was a mixture of Hakkai's indebtedness and Goku's deserving better than the pissy monk's _harisen_ reinforcing his learning.

"I'll be back in time to cook dinner."

"'Kai, that isn't what I meant."

"I know that, Gojyo." Hakkai's hand was on the doorknob, he turned back to Gojyo, a quizzical expression on his face.

And then it clicked.

Hakkai wasn't stating that he was aware of his obligations, he was reassuring Gojyo that he would come back. That this was his home.

Gojyo felt his heart flip and he came to the utterly irrevocable conclusion that he needed to say _something_. He walked toward Hakkai, dropping the grocery list on the counter next to his breakfast. The air between them seemed charged, but Hakkai held his ground.

"I'll cook tonight."

He held the door open and watched Hakkai leave. There was no need to rush things--to press for a change in their relationship--Gojyo realized not only could he be satisfied with what he had, but also he was content to let their relationship unfold naturally. Gojyo trusted he'd know when the time was right.


End file.
